


Snippets and Shipping

by Glue_the_Grue



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures, Problem Sleuth (Webcomic)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-13
Updated: 2012-06-17
Packaged: 2017-11-07 15:25:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 4,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/432637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glue_the_Grue/pseuds/Glue_the_Grue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I take short fic requests on Tumblr. Here is where I'll collect them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. CD/DD

**Author's Note:**

> For anonymous.

On any given day, Deuce would just throw on whatever clothes he found lying around on the floor and wear that, until he got stopped by Droog and promptly marched back to his room. Lately Deuce had been getting better about not leaving his clothes willy-nilly, more often than not actually remembering to put the dirty ones in his hamper due to Droog’s constant nagging, but there was only so much he could get into Deuce’s head. He fold and hang up Deuce’s jackets and pants and show him how to tie a tie for the millionth time, slowly going over the motions with him in front of his little mirror. And every day without fail Deuce would hug Droog’s leg and thank him for his help, skipping off happily in his adjusted clothes.


	2. SS/Ms Paint

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SS/Ms Paint for LuckySpike!

There’s this burning feeling consuming your body, your arms, your lungs, burning every inch of you as you climb. That crazy son-of-a-bitch throws you over a balcony into the sea to save you? Your new metal limbs almost drowned you with their weight, but you managed to climb the cliffs out of the water, and now you’re climbing them all the way back up. You wish he hadn’t done that.

You and that green asshole have a score to settle.

But even as you try to focus on your hatred and burning desire to kill him, a little thought inside your head keeps driving you onward.

What happened to her?


	3. DD/HB

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DD/HB for Forteh.

“Someone’s gotta look out fer ya. You can’t do it alone.”

———-

Droog replays the scene from earlier that night in his head, sitting slumped in a chair, a whiskey in one hand and a half-full ashtray in the other. It was meant to be a simple robbery, getting into the jeweler’s warehouse and nabbing their newest shipment of uncut diamonds. The alarms were simple and security was lax. The job was practically a joke, a simple night out as a group, to work together and not have to stress about anything. But apparently some low-grade wannabes had their eyes set on the diamonds too, coming in after you had disabled the alarms and making a mess, killing the security guard you had left alive and pulling out their guns as soon as they spotted you.

It being a warehouse, he had plenty of cover, so Droog wasn’t worried, ducking himself down behind a crate and motioning for the others to get into positions. He had meant to try and flank them, using the other’s gunfire as a distraction, but he miscalculated and got pinned down in a corner, the gangsters having called in their pals from outside that he had been unaware of. He called for help on the receiver, thinking it a simple matter of getting the Crew to make the gangsters back off, but as soon as he had mentioned he was trapped he heard a roar and the cracking of boxes.

Droog groaned as he heard the cacophony of boxes being thrown and smashing against walls and heads, Slick and Deuce yelling over gunfire in the background. He was starting to get pissed off when a large figure came around a nearby crate, toppling over a stack in the direction of one of the gunmen. He started to yell at Boxcars for his recklessness when he was swept up in strong hands, Boxcars looking him over frantically for any sign of injury. Droog just sighed and asked to be put down, pointing out that Boxcars was the one who had to worry about injuries, blood already starting to soak into the side of his suit. Boxcars just laughed it off as he dragged Droog back to where Slick and Deuce were blowing up an escape hole in the wall. Droog had half a mind to stay behind a bit to kill some of the goons, but one look at Boxcars and he reconsidered, reigning in his temper as he let Boxcars steer him out, wanting to get him out of there to tend to that wound.

Droog asked him about it when they got back to the hideout, the two of them in the small room they used for patching each other up. He wondered why Boxcars had to go and rush in after he radio’d, instead of waiting for his plan, voicing his displeasure at Boxcar’s recklessness as he dug out the bullet in his side. Boxcars just smiled at him and put his hands on Droog’s shoulders, looking him in the eyes.

What he said kept ringing in Droog’s ears even after everyone else had gone to bed, as he sat there in his room, smoking and drinking, deep in thought.

He supposed he’d have to return the favor. And he wouldn’t have to do it alone.


	4. Snowman/SS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Snowman/Spades Slick for Anonymous.

There was something singularly enticing and infuriating about Snowman, the way she moved and spoke, it was entrancing and maddening. From the first moment you met her, you an Archagent and her your Queen, a seed of hate was planted in your heart, and with every speck of interest you took in her it grew, poisoning your blood and tearing at your heart, making you go crazy with love and hate. You tried to control it, to release the hate elsewhere, trying to relieve it through killing and spiteful acts of incredibly cruel bureaucratic red tape laws, but the twisting vines always circled back to her.

Even in the desert she plagued you, your blood running cold with hate even as the sun tried to cook you alive.

Even after you killed her, you would dream of horrid red vines, twisting and clutching at the universe, searching to consume and destroy her.

You destroyed the universe and she was still your world.


	5. CD/PI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clubs Deuce/Pickle Inspector for Anonymous. As they put it, 'in a non romantic way'.

You had taken your friend’s boyfriend out for a night on the town, wanting to get to know him better, so of course the obvious choice was to take him to your favorite theater. It was one of the ones you owned on the sly, all the employees smiling and knowing you on sight, your tickets and food given for free. You loaded up on popcorn and gummies, making sure to shove a bunch of tootsie roll boxes in the tall guy’s pockets. It was important to remember what kind of candy a guy liked, especially if you were trying to be friends! Come to think of it you couldn’t really recall your new friend’s name. Picky-something.

No matter. You had been calling him toots all night anyways, on account of his favorite candy, not sure why it would make him blush every time you said it. It was just a nickname.

You hustled him into the private screening room next to the managers office which was usually used to check the movies before setting them up in the theaters proper. But the manager had tidied it up, and even added a nice couch for you, so you managed to remember to give him a nice bonus. You had chosen some alien movie, since your new pal here is apparently fond of stories that need a lot of imagination, like you!

Apparently it was a good choice, because hes hugging you tightly after only half an hour as you laugh at the strange screaming creatures on the screen. Yeah, your pal sure knew how to choose a winner, that’s for sure!


	6. LE/Hussie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Lord English/Hussie for Anonymous. What are you doing to me.

It was a cold night in hell, and Hussie was on a mission. He marched over the frozen expanse to where he knew LE would be, one thought on his mind.

“Lord English, hey, I need to speak with you.”

“What trifling matter do you have to discuss NOW?”

“Its about how you’re always here.”

“…yyyesss? Go on…”

“Well I was just wondering if that means you’re a premature ejaculator, like, you’re already there, oh woops there you go all over everything it’s like a-HURK”


	7. HB/PI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hearts Boxcars/Pickle Inspector for Anonymous. My friend Harpy calls this ship 'puzzlebox'.

PI, on one of his more morose days, had asked Boxcars what he saw in him, practically whispering it into his shoulder as Boxcars rubbed his back comfortingly. A sad and confused look spread across Boxcar’s face as he hugged PI tighter, kissing the top of his head as he formulated a reply.

“Well for one, you happen to be about the nicest person I ever did meet” he started off, shifting PI to his lap so he could look at his face, “you’re kind and courteous and just about the sweetest thing aside from processed sugar.”

PI was already blushing madly, his eyes wide as he stared at Boxcars, obviously having not expected this reaction. Boxcars just gave him a smile and brushed some hair off of PI’s face, continuing with his reply.

“You’re real smart too. I say it all the time, sure, but it bears repeating. The things you do, it’s just amazing! I can barely wrap my head around even the simplest ideas you seem to come up with, you’re some bona-fide genius or something.”

PI just keeps staring at him incredulously, his eyes still wet from his bout of crying earlier. Boxcars just rubs lightly at the tears, clearing them away and getting a shy smile from PI as he look away, abashed. Boxcars just kisses the side of PI’s head and holds him close, talking into his hair as he resumes rubbing his back.

“I know its hard for you to see just how great you are, but I guess thats what I’m here for. I’ll say it all a million times a day if I have to!”

PI gives a nervous laugh and shakes his head on Boxcar’s shoulder. “I think maybe that’d be a little much, Hearts.”

“What? But I could leave you little post-it notes in your lunch and your briefcase, and call you in the middle of work! I could even call your pals to get them to tell you-oof” Boxcars laughs and huff, PI having elbowed him in the stomach to get him to stop, moving his head quickly back to Boxcar’s shoulder to hide the large, silly grin on his face. Boxcars just laughs again and holds him close, leaning back with a large smile on his face. Another job well done.


	8. PI/Tony Stark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pickle Inspector/Tony Stark for Anonymous.....why this? I don't know.....

PI had an intense interest in Tony Stark since the first time he read about him, his achievements and life bringing out that certain obsessive side of him, taking his normally curious nature and turning it up to eleven. He wasn’t like some stalker, oh no, he was just appreciating him! Collecting every known article or paper written on him was just being thorough! Cataloging an archive of every public picture of him was for reference! Obsessively reading his tweets and interviews was just him appreciating his personality, and reading all of his technical papers was only polite, even if you wouldn’t ever have the need or the funds to use the information you learned from them.

He was just interested with him, honest! He wasn’t some screaming fan who fantasized about meeting him in private or anything like that, of course not! All of his mental scenarios had them discussing in well lit, public areas, where there just happened to be no one around.

But even with all his daydreams, looking up one day to see The Man Himself walking into his office as calm as you please, he wasn’t ever prepared for actually meeting him.

So of course he had to go and faint when Stark started talking in that way of his, calm and confident and suave. Half of what he had said had been drowned out by the ringing in his ears as his body gave out on him. He managed to glimpse a slight look of confusion on Stark’s face right before he passed out, heart hammering and mind running wild.

Sleuth loved to tell that story of how Stark rushed into his office to ask if PI did that often, describing in detail just how much of a fool PI had made of himself. It annoyed PI to no end, but he always consoled himself by looking at the number sequestered carefully in his cellphone, mind wandering away to different possibilities.


	9. LE/GPI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lord English/Godhead Pickle Inspector for HalberdierMinister.

His eyes could always see him, and he knew that he, in turn, was always being regarded. It was a constant in his mad life; the way he played with time and universes keeping his life hectic and fulfilling, but no matter what he did or where he went, the staring match persisted. Lord English had an insatiable desire to know just who and what they were, taking in the strange dress, the third glowing eye, the four seemingly endless arms, the magnificent lotus petals. But in all his travels, with each new universe consumed or destroyed, he was no closer to his eye’s view, that soft smile giving a faint sense of fondness that LE could not recall ever seeing elsewhere.

It maddened him.

He would find this creature, even if it took an eternity. He had all the time in the world after all.


	10. HB/PI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hearts Boxcars/Pickle Inspector for Harpy! Requested: purring.

Pickle Inspector rushed through the crowd, trying his best to avoid bumping people as he ran haphazardly towards his apartment. Tonight was movie night, and he had forgotten.

He was already an hour late.

He had a legitimate excuse, a case had gotten him caught up in some legal red-tape that couldn’t wait, but PI could care less about the why, already blaming himself and fearing the worst. What if he had already left? What if he was angry? He tried to banish the thoughts by focusing on his running, but trying to stop his mind from turning was like trying to stop a car with a stick. By the time he reached his apartment complex he was gasping for breath, a high-pitched wheeze coming out every time he exhaled.

Now for the stairs.

He climbed the four stories at a slower pace, giving into the thought that being an hour late, its not like he could make it worse by taking a few extra minutes to try and catch his breath. But even with the slower pace, he was still wheezing by the time he reached his door, the only one with the upside-down number plate. He started at the door-handle with trepidation, he thoughts having reached a cacophony without the distraction that running provided. His heart pounded in his ears as he reached for the knob, hand shaking and eyes watering as he mentally ran though the possibilities. He’d be angry, he’d be sad, he’d yell at him. He’d leave. It was with this dread that he opened the door to find Boxcars sleeping soundly on his couch, snoring loudly. He had his feet propped up on the coffee table, a half-eaten bowl of popcorn and a pile of movies next to his sock-clad feet.

All PI could manage to do was close the door quietly and stare, wondering what to do. Should he wake him? That thought only brought him back to his previous worries, and he cringed, berating himself for being afraid of nothing. He went about his normal after-work routine while he thought; hang up coat and hat, remove shoes, place briefcase on table, wash hands. Even after all this, Boxcars was still sleeping, undisturbed by the slight noises that PI made. Having made up his mind to wake Boxcars while washing his hands, he went over to shake him gently, whispering Boxcars name to try and wake him gently. But even as PI increased his shaking, Boxcars would not wake, snoring loudly.

PI just sighed and slumped next to him on the couch, wondering what to do. He would definitely have to apologize; he had already made his mind up about that when he first realized he was late. He absentmindedly chewed some of the cod popcorn as he thought of ways to make it up to Boxcars for being late, but he felt that everything he thought up wasn’t good enough. He sighed in defeat and figured he could just tell Boxcars to ask for something, since he always seemed to know what to do. Looking at Boxcars sleeping frame again, PI smiled wearily, glad that he was still here, even though it was only because he had fallen asleep, or so he told himself. He scooted closer to curl himself around Boxcar’s side, wrapping his arms around Boxcar’s stomach and laying his head on his shoulder. As he got comfortable he felt the rumble of Boxcars snores take on a different sound, more rhythmic, less grating.

He was purring.

PI just boggled at this revelation, a stupid grin spreading across his face as he snuggled closer, listening intently as Boxcars continued to purr in his sleep. PI figured it must have been the physical contact that prompted it, now realizing why Boxcars would have to clear his throat sometimes when they cuddled. He giggled to himself and buried his face in Boxcar’s chest, previous worries forgotten as he enjoyed the sound.


	11. PS/??

Problem Sleuth was a hard-boiled detective, which meant he was a man of many secrets. _Hard-boiled_ secrets.

He kept telling himself this as he snuck into a back alley, heading for a familiar iron door halfway down the passage. Two quick knocks and he was quickly prompted for a password (this week’s was ‘manpurse’).

He entered with his hat low, not sparing the doorman another glance, and the doorman doing the same, resuming his watch. Sleuth took a right and walked down the familiar hallway to the room at the end, where his appointment was waiting.

Inside the room was an office desk, complete with phone and pencil case, a desk chair, and a ceiling fan with a dim light, all back-dropped by a false window, providing some atmospheric lighting through drawn blinds. He sat down at the desk and propped up his feet, waiting for his appointment to arrive.

A quick knock on the door soon came, and he called for them to enter, an excited grin already spreading across his face.

A long pair of legs, clad in high heels and a short, came through the doorway, followed by another pair of similarly clad legs. Sleuth boggled at the fact that there were two before letting his eyes wander up, eyes catching appreciatively on the way the skirts bulged in all the right places, at the open shirts revealing large, muscular chests, the stubbled chins on hard, chiseled faces. He whistled appreciatively as the two large, muscular men posed in the doorway, cocking their hips out and striking a pose.

“I had been expecting one lady tonight, not two. And to what do I owe this pleasure...?”

“Me and my friend here gots a problem we need you to sleuth, stud. Think you can handle it?”

“Of course I can, it's in the name, sweetcheeks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The request was for Problem Sleuth/two bears, from Anonymous. I, uh, went somewhere strange with this...


	12. DD/DD

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Diamonds Droog/Deadeye Detective for A CERTAIN SOMEONE WHO KNOWS WHO THEY ARE.  
> 3 sentence challenge

Deadeye was not the kind of man to admire his reflection for more than the needed amount, but Droog was the opposite, taking the time to preen and mutter compliments to himself like the self-absorbed man he was. That it was Deadeye who made the first move was a surprise to both of them, but the result was the same. Afterwards, Deadeye could be seen admiring his own reflection a bit more often, and Droogs mutterings seemed to be meant for someone else…


	13. PS/PI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Problem Sleuth/Pickle Inspector, requested by Halberdier for a friend.  
> 3 sentence challenge

Before the whole Mobster Kingpin fiasco, Problem Sleuth would always notice that no matter how late he left the office, it seemed that Pickle Inspector was always in his. After the trial with MK, and the discovery of their new friendship, he learned of PI’s insomnia, and how he’d rather fill his time with work than lay in bed alone with his thoughts. At first, PS thought his joke about not going to bed alone was out of line, but the resulting conversation netted him a night of cuddling, and PI some well needed rest.


	14. 1/2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Itchy/Doze for Anonymous.  
> 3 sentence challenge

It wasn’t often that Doze got the chance to spend time with Itchy, the spastic man constantly flitting about from one place to another in an energetic whirlwind. But even Itchy got tired, and apparently he liked nothing better than spending his quiet times curled up with someone else. Itchy would always say that he only chose Doze because he was the only one who wouldn’t tease Itchy for it, but Doze knew better, smiling to himself as Itchy muttered in his sleep.


	15. PM/JN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PM/Jack Noir for problem-sleuths-hips.  
> 3 sentence challenge

If you asked him what he liked about her, he’d go on and on in that way of his, describing her body and making bad puns and allusions about their night-time activities together. With how she was around everyone else, everyone wondered just what it was she saw in him. But he knew what she wanted, and he was more than glad to give it to her, tied up and begging for his own satisfaction.


	16. PM/JN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PM/ Jack Noir for Anonymous.  
> 3 sentence challenge

All her friends tried to warn her away from him, telling her stories about his crimes and personality, but she would not be swayed. What they didn’t know-and she would never tell them- was just what their relationship entailed.

Needless to say, she always had some rope on hand and some ideas on her mind, just waiting for the chance to jump him in some back alley and make him scream.


	17. HB/SS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hearts Boxcars/Spades Slick for Harpy! Request: bedcars  
> 3 sentence challenge

Slick hated the cold with a strident passion, his hatred for it almost as great as his hatred for Snowman. It was with this excuse that he would clamber onto Boxcars in the night, dragging the covers over them both and promptly falling asleep on the large, groggy man. Boxcars didn’t mind, and he thought it was cute, even if he could never admit that without the chance of being stabbed.


	18. 4/14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clover/Quarters for Para. Request: lazy day  
> 3 sentence challenge

Quarters was rarely one to take an off day; he was a busybody, plain and simple, and found enjoyment through hard and constant work. But every once in awhile, Clover managed to convince him to take it easy, inviting him to lay in the sunbeams in the parlor, or enjoy some music by the fireplace. And while Quarters would never admit it, he always looked forward to the times Clover would quiet down enough to ask him to do this, the simple, easy calm warming his heart.


	19. 6/7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Die/Crowbar for Anonymous. Request: rituals  
> 3 sentence challenge

For all that Die was constantly being reminded of apparent voodoo roots, it was Crowbar who had the most rituals, small and normal as they were. Getting ready for bed, getting up in the morning, even getting dressed- he had a specific order for things that he didn’t like to disrupt. But Die was slowly learning how to change this; a kiss here, a comment there, and more and more often he found himself able to just lie in his arms for a few more moments each morning.


	20. 5/6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fin/Die for Anonymous. Request: thursday morning  
> 3 sentence challenge

Thursday mornings were always rather slow, everyone getting some extra sleep after the midweek heist, and preparing for the Friday planning session. Fin always liked to use this lull in activity to cook himself and Die a nice, quiet breakfast that they wouldn’t have to share; sneaking back to one of their rooms, arms laden with plates and cups. Whether anyone else had figured out what they were up to was uncertain, but they certainly didn’t care enough to share their secret morning feast.


	21. 6/7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Die/Crowbar for Anonymous. Request: Creepy stalkerish Die talking to the reader about Crowbar.  
> 3 sentence challenge

“People tell me love at first sight isn’t real, but they’re wrong, so, so wrong. I have loved him since I first laid eyes on him, since I first met him and held his hand in a shake, as I gazed into his eyes. I knew then and there we were meant for each other, and not you or anyone else can tell me differently.”


	22. HB/PI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hearts Boxcars/Pickle Inspector for Harpy!   
> 3 sentence challenge

Inspector shared a lot of ideas on romance that Hearts held, but having never considered the ideas as being used with another man, PI kept messing things up, or so he thought. He had recently left Hearts a hand-picked bouquet he had collect from a visit to the local park, with a note promising to meet him after work, but he soon felt very foolish: you were supposed to give flowers to women, or so he had heard- he had no idea what to give to a man you fancied! But when night rolled around and he went nervously over to their meeting-place, he was pleasantly surprised to find that HB was more than happy to receive the gift, and returned the favor with a kiss for each one.


	23. HB/HD

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hearts Boxcars/Hysterical Dame for Anonymous.  
> 3 sentence challenge (oops 4 oh well)

Both Hearts and Dame had troublesome friends who liked to steal their booze; Hearts had to stop Slick from drinking his stock almost constantly, and while Dame was rarely ever visited by the Inspector, his arrival usually entailed finding her entire stock of drink completely gone, replaced by an assortment of strange candy weaponry. They had gotten onto the topic of hiding their booze one night when they bumped into each other at a local grocery, their baskets laden with alcohol to replenish their stocks. After a lot of suave and horrendous flirting alike, they both decided they’d go back to Dame’s place and just drink all the alcohol themselves, before their friends could get their hands on it.

Needless to say they regretted a lot from that night, but were quite glad to wake up hungover next to each other.


	24. 14/his minigun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quarters/his minigun for Anonymous. Request: holy goddam matrimony

Quarters wasn’t too fond of institutions: governments, the law, schools- he despised their order and restrictions. But as he gazed lovingly at the cold- polished surface of his minigun, he felt himself changing his mind about one institution- the institution of marriage. When he found out that he couldn’t get legally married to his gun, he shot up all the government buildings he could find and resumed his hatred for all known institutions, marriage especially.


	25. 8/9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Snowman/Stitch for VANNY. Request: crossdressing  
> 3 sentence challenge

It wasn’t often that Snowman was surprised, but finding Stitch holding the new dress he had mare for her against himself as he admired his reflection, she wasn’t sure what else to feel but surprise. When he had caught her gaze in the mirror’s reflection, he had quickly turned about and started mumbling about checking the size and other nonsense. Snowman ignored his mumbling and approached him, leaning down to whisper in his ear: “Maybe next time you should call me. Dressing up is always more fun with a friend.”


	26. 1/4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Itchy/Clover for Anonymous. Request: Maybe clover got into itchys coffee or prank war, either or.   
> 3 sentence challenge

At first Itchy hadn’t been sure how to act around Clover, their pranks certifiably hilarious in his eyes, but since he was commonly on the receiving end, his approval had dropped considerably. But when he came up with the marvelous idea to ask Clover if he could join him in his frivolities, his short-memory completely forgot all past transgressions and they became a two-man whirlwind of horrible pranks. The fact that some of their pranks seemed awfully like just making out in front of people to annoy them was just a coincidence.


	27. HP/PI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Para lovely sunshine, request: Puzzlebox fluff

There were few things in life that PI and HB enjoyed doing together more than baking. Especially when it came to cookies, the sheer versatility provided through the delicious medium a great outlet for PI’s constantly overactive imagination and HB’s constantly overactive hunger. PI wasn’t one for public displays of affection, so when it came to holidays, especially ones celebrating couples, they would get together to cook instead of going out, stocking up on loads of flour and sugar and whatever else they needed for the occasion.

For christmas PI liked to go with many of the traditionally seasonal shapes, but he had come up with a few designs of his own, like pretzel-horned reindeer and red velvet santa cookies with bellies full of jelly. HB especially enjoyed eating those. Come valentines HB just spend the week cooking with PI, reveling in making everything shaped like his namesake, PI completely charmed by his enthusiasm every time. For St. Patties day PI preferred to use a lot of alcohol in his recipes, eventually foregoing the cooking process and just drinking straight from the bottles of cooking sherry, much to HB’s dismay. Halloween would inevitably end with them competing to make the scariest looking cookies, the shapes eventually devolving into things vaguely resembling horrorterrors and many-tentacled beasties. By that time they’d have made too many cookies for even HB to finish off, opting for throwing them at their friends after some ‘light’ drinking, making loud ghost noises and giggling madly as they ran away, leaving their compatriots looking on with confusion, covered in cookie crumbs.

Even when it wasn’t a holiday they always had a good time, PI letting his imagination take him wherever, HB pleased to help create and consume the results.

\---Mini special for Entropic---

PI once accidentally took one of Slick’s horrible jokes for the truth, baking a giant wedding cake for him and Droog and making a laughing Boxcars deliver it personally. Boxcars couldn’t even explain why he had the cake without bursting into hysterical laughter, which is probably the only reason PI didn’t get any new stab-wounds that day. Luckily he also forgot the reason he baked it in the first place, saving him the embarrassment of having Boxcars explain to him that Slick and Droog weren’t actually getting married.


	28. CD/DD

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Mar stronf eternal, request: CD/DD stupid fluff

Deuce huddled deeper into his “pillow” and sighed contentedly, worn out from a long, exciting day of explosives and their many uses. He gripped it in a tight hug, heedless of the occasional grunts his squeezing would elicit, rubbing his face against the soft, warm fabric. Droog adjusted himself in the chair after a particularly strong squeeze, trying to read his paper without disturbing Deuce, not wanting to deal with the shorter man when he was tired and cranky. Occasionally the silence would be interrupted by the sound of Droog turning a page, or Deuce mumbling something incoherent into Droog’s shirt, hugging him tightly again. Despite Droog’s constant admonishments against Deuce falling asleep on him, Droog never actually tried stopping Deuce, his actions speaking louder than words. Especially since he always took care to tuck him in carefully later after finishing his reading, before getting ready for sleep himself.


End file.
